


Always Been You

by jalenrose1122



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, Reddie, Take my trash, breakup au nobody asked for, literally killed me to write this, theres sex so that's nice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 21:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16205900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jalenrose1122/pseuds/jalenrose1122
Summary: After years of being together, Eddie is starting to get tired. Tired of Richie's disrespect, tired of Richie's lifestyle, tired of Richie's shit. And he finally decides to do something about it





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trash

Eddie was done. 

 

He and Richie were currently at a bar. Well,  _ Eddie  _ was at the bar. He was nursing the same fruity drink that Richie had bought him when they got there. His boyfriend, however, had already downed multiple drinks and shots. He was currently dancing. 

 

Dancing with some random chick that had started talking to him after he abandoned Eddie. 

 

So, Eddie was done. This was the third time this had happened; the first time, Eddie hadn't noticed. Mike had come with them, so Eddie was preoccupied talking with his friend. Now that he thought about it, Mike  _ had  _ been more talkative that night than he had been in 10 years. Eddie had a feeling that he knew Richie was off dancing with someone else, and was trying to distract him. 

 

The second time was when Eddie truly thought Richie had lost his fucking mind. The taller boy had gone off to the bathroom, so Eddie stayed sitting at the bar, making small talk with a woman who had just had a bad breakup. He was trying to cheer her up when he turned around. Only to see Richie,  _ his boyfriend _ , grinding on some blonde bimbo. He was  _ pissed.  _ That night, Richie had slept on the couch. He was lucky Eddie even let him in the apartment at all. 

 

But this time. This time, Eddie was fed the fuck up. Richie had promised that it was never going to happen again. He had  _ promised _ . Eddie downed the rest of his drink, slamming it onto the counter and stomping over to Richie and the tramp that was all over him. 

 

He smacked Richie's arm, causing the other man to look at him. The lazy grin on his face was quickly replaced with a look of fear when he saw Eddie. 

 

“Shit, Eds. I thought I told you to stay at the bar?” His eyes were blown wide, and the girl had move on to some other guy. 

 

_ Yeah, go ruin someone else’s relationship, _ Eddie thought. 

 

“Yeah,  _ Richard _ . You did. But I didn't listen to you. Just like I shouldn't have fucking listened a month ago when you  _ promised _ that you weren't gonna do this again!” 

 

He pushed Richie, walking quickly to the exit. He pushed the door open, standing on the edge of the sidewalk as he pulled out his phone to call Mike. He knew he couldn't walk home, but he couldn't call a cab either. He was too buzzed and paranoid to do that. 

 

Before he could hit the call button, Richie ran out to him. “Eddie! Eddie, baby. Please let me explain.” He went to cup Eddie's cheeks, but the shorter man pulled away. 

 

“Explain, then.” Eddie crossed his arms, chewing on the inside of his cheek to stop himself from yelling at Richie. 

 

Richie stuttered over his words, beginning a sentence but then stopping himself. “I- Well, it-.” He sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair. “I'm sorry.”

 

Eddie took a breath to steady himself, not wanting to attack Richie on the middle of the sidewalk. “You're  _ sorry? _ That's really all you have to say?” When Richie sheepishly nodded, Eddie scoffed. “You're fucking unbelievable.”

 

“Eds, I said I'm sorry. What more do you want from me?” Richie asked, looking down at him. 

 

“What I  _ want _ is for you to stop! Stop letting random girls rub all over you when I'm literally across the room!” He shoved Richie, hard, and the taller man almost fell. “You promised, Richie. You fucking promised!”

 

“Yeah, I  _ know  _ what I did. And guess what, I was fucking drunk when I promised you that. You shouldn't ever listen to a thing I say when I'm drunk.” He rolled his eyes, swatting Eddie's hands away from him and barely able to catch his balance. He knew he had said something wrong when Eddie started to tear up. 

 

“You were drunk when you told me you loved me for the first time,” Eddie whispered, his words cutting off with a small sob. “I'm such a fucking idiot.”

 

Richie's eyes widened. “ _ Fuck _ . No, Eddie, stop. I meant that, okay? I  _ mean _ it. I do love you. I love you so much, please don't think-”

 

“Don't think what? Don't think that you really don't love me? That you dancing with people is your way of telling me that you don't? That you never fucking did?”

 

“Eddie…”

 

“No, Richie. You're gonna listen to me right now. Because your actions have said enough.” Richie simply nodded, letting Eddie say all he needed to. “Actually- no. I need to know one thing from you. And if you lie to me i'll know.”

 

Richie looked into Eddie's eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asked, starting to tap on his thigh with the tips of his fingers. 

 

“Have you cheated on me?” The question took a Richie by surprise, and he froze. “Answer. The. Question.” 

 

“No, n-no of course not.” Richie's eyes flitted away from his for a second, and that's when he knew. 

 

“Who was it?” Eddie asked in a whisper, tears falling freely down his cheeks. Richie looked down at the ground, seemingly ashamed.  _ Good. He should be. _

 

Richie chewed on his lip. “The girl I was with last time,” he whispered. “A-And another person. It was a g-guy,” he said, wrapping his arms around himself. 

 

Eddie choked out a sob, shaking his head. “I- what the  _ fuck _ , Richie?” He backed away from him, rubbing his eyes. 

 

Richie looked up at Eddie finally, his eyes wide. “Eds,  _ please _ . I was drunk off my ass, I’m fucking sorry.” He reached out for Eddie, grabbing onto his hand. 

 

Eddie yanked it out of Richie's grasp. “Don't touch me. Do  _ not  _ fucking touch me! Don't even come near me.  _ This _ ,” he said, pointing between them, “is over. Done. Fuck you, Richard.” He walked away, finally calling Mike. He explained through his tears that he needed somewhere to stay, and his best friend was on his way. 

 

Richie stayed there, in the middle of the sidewalk. He knew he had just fucked up his life. His entire world had left him. So, he did the only thing he knew to do. He drank. 

 

~~~

 

Five days. Five days of sleeping in Mike and Stan’s guest bedroom. Of wearing their clothes that were big on him, but not the same as how Richie's were always big on him. 

 

It just wasn't the same. 

 

They had tried to make him feel at home, tried to make him comfortable. All they had gotten was a tearful explanation of everything that had happened, and a promise that he would eat and stay hydrated. 

 

Most of the days he stayed curled up in the bed. He only moved to the couch whenever reality hit him. Whenever he noticed that the bed didn't have another body in it, or that it didn't smell like  _ him.  _ Like his cigarettes, or his cologne, or the stupid candy that he was alway eating when he didn't want to get up to smoke. 

 

Stan and Mike were the only ones that knew, unless Richie had told Bill. Eddie only wanted Mike to know, but he couldn't ask his boyfriend for Eddie to stay with them without  _ some  _ form of an explanation. So Eddie told both of them together. 

 

_ “I broke up with Richie.” _

 

Hearing those words repeated over and over in his head for the past five days… it had driven him a little more than crazy. He was hysterical at this point. Every time something reminded him of Richie, he burst into tears. Even somebody tapping a beat on a table would upset him. Because that's what his boyfriend always did. 

 

_ Ex _ -boyfriend. He couldn't call Richie his anymore. 

 

Every time he thought back to that night, he couldn't believe it had actually happened. Five days ago, though it felt like forever. Forever, without the man that he thought he would have for the rest of his life. 

 

But Eddie had ended it. This was what he wanted. Wasn't it?

 

He was interrupted from his thoughts when Stan came into the bedroom. He stood in the doorway, his arms crossed and the house phone in his hand. Eddie found that a little weird that he didn't just use his cell to call people. 

 

“Eddie,” he said softly. “There's someone on the phone for you.”

 

Now it made sense. If someone had called Eddie's phone, he wouldn't have answered. If they would've called Stan or Mike’s phone, the two men wouldn't be able to listen in on another line. 

 

Eddie sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Who is it?” he asked, his voice rough from all of the crying he had done. 

 

Stan smiled sadly at him. “It's Bill. He said that he tried your phone, but you weren't answering.”

 

Of course. Of course Richie's best fucking 

friend would be trying to call him. He sighed, holding his hand out for the phone. Stan walked into the room, giving it to him. 

 

“Let me know if you need anything. Mike is driving down to the farm,” he said, his voice still quiet. 

 

_ That’s how Stan is, _ Eddie thought. His voice always soft, almost like he was too afraid to be loud. Almost like he knew that yelling would form that last crack in Eddie that would inevitably break him. 

 

Eddie nodded, waiting until he left the room to put the phone up to his ear. “Hello?” he said, half expecting it to not be Bill on the other line. 

 

“E-Eddie.” He was taken aback when he heard the stuttering man instead of his boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. Whatever Richie was to him now. 

 

“What do you want, Bill?” he asked, sighing. He could already feel his patience growing thin, not wanting to have to talk to anybody. 

 

“W-Why are y-you at Stan and M-M-Mike’s house? Where's R-Richie?”

 

Eddie was genuinely surprised. Richie hadn't already talked to Bill? “I don't know. He can do whatever and whoever the fuck he wants. We’re over.”

 

“Eddie, w-what-” Bill’s sentence was cut short when Eddie hung up on him. 

 

He threw the phone down onto the bed, burying his face in his hands. He heard quiet footsteps before a pair of arms were wrapped around him. He leaned against Stan, his shoulders shaking slightly as he sobbed. 

 

“It's gonna be okay, Eddie. Everything's gonna work out. It's gonna hurt for a while. It'll take some time, but I promise you you'll be okay,” Stan said, rubbing his back as he started to rock them back and forth. 

 

Eddie felt pathetic. Here he was, 23 years old and crying into one of his best friends’ chest. 

 

“You can stay here as long as you need.” Coming from Stan, that meant a lot to Eddie. He didn't take well to people staying with them, not even his own friends. To let Eddie stay there meant the world. 

 

“Thank you.”

 

~~

 

Richie had more alcohol in the past five days then his whole life. He had been at the bar every single night, showing up the next morning with a horrible hangover. He would go through the day, half-assing his work, just to repeat the process. 

 

He was lost without Eddie. The night they fought, he went home expecting to see Eddie there. When he was nowhere in sight, that's when it hit him. 

 

He had fucked up. Eddie wasn't coming back. 

 

He had paced their whole apartment for hours, waiting for his love to come back. When it was bordering on 3 am and he still wasn't back, Richie decided he was going to go to sleep and deal with it in the morning. 

 

He didn't sleep a wink that night. He took off from work the next day, shutting himself in the apartment. He drank the day away, going through every ounce of alcohol he could find. 

 

He didn't even bother calling in for the second day, or the third. It was on the fourth that his boss told him he needed to either come to work or get a temporary suspension. So, he went to work. But his boss never said anything about being  _ sober _ . 

 

He almost broke three vinyl records, actually cracking one of them. He couldn't keep his balance for shit, and his boss just thought he was sick. So he told him to take the rest of the day off. 

 

Richie had stopped by the liquor store before going home, getting four  _ large  _ bottles. He took them home and cracked the first one open, drinking straight from the bottle as he sat on the couch, watching whatever was on the tv. 

 

He couldn't sleep in their room that night. Or was it just his room now, since Eddie wasn't coming back? He didn't know, but he couldn't bear to be in the bedroom for more than five minutes. He would be able to smell the traces of Eddie's scented lotion he used religiously, or he would see Eddie's sweaters, all neatly hung on his side of the closet. 

 

He couldn't take it. He was slowly going insane without Eddie,  _ his  _ Eddie. He needed to see him. 

 

He got a call from Bill on the morning of the fifth day, and his best friend sounded frantic. 

 

“I-It’s about t-time you a-answer me. Where a-are you?” he asked. It was clear by the sound of his voice that he was pacing. 

 

“Somewhere,” was all Richie said. His voice was slightly slurred, and he was sure Bill could hear the liquid sloshing in the bottle as he took a swig. 

 

Bill sighed loudly. He had, in fact, heard it. “I j-just talked to E-Eddie. Y-You know he hasn't b-been to work i-in five d-days? O-Or I j-just miraculously h-haven't seen him.” When Richie grunted in response, Bill continued. “He t-told me. H-He’s at M-Mike and St-Stan’s.”

 

Richie shrugged even though Bill couldn't see him. “And? It's not like he's gonna wanna see me. I cheated on him, Bill. Twice. He's done with me.” 

 

“R-Rich, t-that’s not t-true.” Bill tried to assure him that they just needed a break, and that Eddie loved him. 

 

“He doesn't. He doesn't love me. He  _ did _ , Bill. But he doesn't anymore. I ruined it.” He hung up on Bill, not wanting to hear any more. 

 

So he drowned his sorrows in alcohol, the cycle starting again of him going to work hungover. Only now, his sadness was added on top of that. 

 

~~

 

It was another nine days until they saw each other again. Fourteen days. Fourteen days of Richie wishing he hadn't been so stupid, fourteen days of  _ Eddie  _ wishing Richie hadn't been so stupid. 

 

Eddie had finally gone back to work, not wanting to be broke and completely depending on Mike and Stan. They had offered to take him back to the apartment to get clothes, and after two weeks he finally agreed. 

 

Now, he found himself in the passenger seat while Mike drove him back home. When they got there, Eddie almost had a panic attack. He could see Richie's car in his usual parking spot, which meant he was home. Unless he had taken a cab to the bar, which Eddie highly doubted. It was only ten in the morning. 

 

He led Mike up the stairs, down the hall, and to the apartment. He took his key out of his wallet, unlocking it and slowly pushing the door open. 

 

He gasped when he walked in and the first thing he saw was at  _ least  _ ten empty bottles on the counter. The second thing he saw?

 

Richie. He was sprawled out on the couch, his hair a wild, dark mess around his face. He had a blanket strewn over him, and Eddie recognised it as one they rarely used. He didn't know it was because this blanket didn't smell like him, wouldn't remind Richie of him. 

 

Eddie turned to Mike, sighing. “I think I need to do this alone,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around himself. 

 

Mike nodded. He hugged Eddie quickly, going back to the door. “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll be down in the car.” 

 

When Mike left, Eddie turned back to Richie. He watched him, studying his features. He had missed him. In some odd, sick way, he still loved him. He was still deeply  _ in  _ love with him. He just didn't want to get hurt again. 

 

Richie stirred, making Eddie jump. He froze when Richie's eyes opened and landed on him. He sat up, staring at Eddie. Neither of the two spoke; Eddie was too busy figuring out what exactly to say, and Richie was too busy trying to figure out if this was a dream or not. 

 

Eddie swallowed, taking a deep breath. “I'm here to get my… my stuff,” he said quietly, tightening his arms around his stomach as he felt Richie's eyes raking up and down his body. He was wearing a pair of his own pants, but it was the shirt that Richie got stuck on. 

 

It was big on Eddie. Not as big as  _ his _ clothes were on Eddie, but still big. He bit back the bile rising in his throat at the thought of Eddie moving on so quickly. 

 

“Who’s shirt is that?” Richie asked, completely ignoring what Eddie had already said. 

 

“Um. It's Stan’s, but I don't see why you should care. It's not like you have any reason to worry about what I'm doing,” Eddie said quickly. The words just flew out of his mouth; he didn't even pay attention to what he was saying until it had been said. 

 

“Oh.” Richie's face fell, and he looked down at the ground. “You don't have to move out,” he said quietly. “I can. I don't want you to leave your home because I-”

 

“I don't care, Richie,” Eddie said, his voice not at all matching his words. He couldn't stop staring at Richie, wanting to throw himself into his arms. He wanted to take back the last two weeks. Hell, he wanted to take back the last two  _ months _ . Then maybe none of this would have ever happened. 

 

“I think you do care. You care a lot more than you're letting on,” Richie said. And maybe it was the alcohol talking, since he was still considerably drunk; that was the reason he passed out on the couch. Normally he’d be on the floor. 

 

Eddie glared at him. “You don't get to tell me what you think. Because you know what I think? I think that you've been going out every single night. Fucking every girl or guy that will put out. So you don't get to care about me right now.”

 

Richie stood up, and Eddie's eyes followed his movements. Richie crossed his arms, stepping closer. Eddie could practically smell the liquor on him, but he didn't comment on it. 

 

“I'm allowed to care about you if I want to, Kaspbrak,” he said under his breath. He leaned in closer, and Eddie froze. 

 

“Get the  _ fuck _ away from me.” He pushed Richie, almost knocking him into the coffee table. “You're not. You aren't allowed to care, Richie. If you cared you wouldn't have  _ fucking  _ cheated on me!” he yelled. 

 

Richie recovered from the push quickly, moving right back in front of Eddie. “Maybe I cheated because I cared too much. Ever think of that? I wanted you more than you wanted me.”

 

Eddie scoffed. “Oh, that's hilarious. You wanted me more? You don't cheat on someone you're ‘in love’ with, asshole! You do that to someone you don't love!” He smacked Richie's chest, starting to tear up. 

 

Richie grabbed onto both of Eddie's hands to stop him from hitting. “Eddie.  _ Look at me _ ,” he said. He waited until they made eye contact to go on. “If I could pay people to pretend to love me more than anything for one night, I was gonna fucking do it.I- calm the fuck down!” he yelled when Eddie started to try and hit him again. 

 

“I'm not gonna calm down! You make no fucking sense, you know that? You would rather  _ pay  _ somebody to love you than take the love of someone you had for free? Real fucking logical.”

 

Richie held on tighter to Eddie's hands. “Listen. You were starting to get distant. And you can't even say that you weren't, because you would be lying to yourself  _ and _ me.”

 

Eddie shook his hand, his struggle to get out of Richie's grasp finally stopping. “No, that's not true. I-I was just getting busy. I never stopped loving you,” he mumbled. 

 

Richie let go of his hands slowly. “You went three days without talking to me once, Eds. Three days. And your excuse whenever I wanted to be around you was that you were busy and didn't have time for me.”

 

Eddie looked down at the ground. He didn't realise he had been pushing Richie away. He was just busy… wasn't he?

 

“I'm sorry, Eds. I really am. But i'm not the only one that did something wrong.” Eddie's head snapped up at that. 

 

“ _ What?  _ Me doing my  _ job  _ does not equal what you did. Not at all, Richie. You went out and fucked somebody else.  _ Two  _ somebody elses!” Eddie poked his chest. “You do not get to tell me this is my fault. You did this. I gave you three chances. Three, Richie! And then you tell me straight up that you cheated-”

 

“Heads up, dipshit!  _ You asked _ . We could've been perfectly happy if you didn't know, and I would've stopped fucking other people. Because that was the last time, Eddie. I was done. But you weren't supposed to  _ know _ -”

 

“I wasn't supposed to know? Really? So what, you were just gonna let me think that you were  _ faithful  _ to me? That you didn't cheat on me?” Eddie pushed him again. “That's the stupidest thing you have ever said, Richie.”

 

Richie shrugged, ignoring the push. “It was better than having you find out. It was mistakes I made while I was drunk, Eds. I don't know how I can make this up to you, baby.” 

 

“Don't call me that,” Eddie snapped. “Don’t call me baby. Because I'm  _ not  _ your baby, got it? We are  _ done _ , Richie.” He started tearing up as he spoke, not wanting to have to say it out loud. But, the damage was done. Now it was real. 

 

“I don't believe you,” Richie said, his voice dangerously quiet. “I think that you need me. You already know that I need you, that's obvious. But you need  _ me _ , too. You would be lost without me.” There wasn't any harshness in his tone, just a slight edge to it. 

 

He was right. Eddie  _ did  _ need him. He couldn't function without the love of his life. But that didn't mean the asshole had the right to use that against him. 

 

So, Eddie slapped him. Lifted his hand and connected it harshly with Richie's cheek. “Don't tell me what you think I need. You don't know  _ shit. _ ”

 

Richie scoffed. “Yeah? Cause without me, you would be living with your mom still.” When Eddie froze, he knew he had struck a nerve. That didn't stop him. “You would be taking those placebos every single goddamn day, wasting your life away just like her. I'm the only reason you left. You were able to leave because you knew you would be with  _ me _ .”

 

Eddie had hot tears streaming down his cheeks. He refused to listen to Richie, even though he was right. He didn't want to fall into another trap of thinking that somebody loved him, only to have his own feelings crushed in the process. 

 

“Shut up. Shut  _ up! _ ” Eddie yelled, covering his face with his hands. “You don't know anything. You don't know my reasons, Richie.” He choked out a sob, looking up at Richie. “You  _ don’t _ .”

 

“I do, Eddie! Why can't you see that? I love you. I'm  _ in love  _ with you. You're it for me, okay? And if I can't have you, there's nothing left for me. That's exactly how you feel, isn't it? These past couple weeks have been hell for you,  _ haven't they _ ?”

 

Eddie tried to ignore his words again, but he couldn't. This was the man he loved. And sure, he made his mistakes. But Eddie had been fighting so hard to forget his mom, forget everything in his past. 

 

He was ready to put the things Richie did in his past as well. 

 

Richie opened his arms, Eddie immediately falling into them. He gripped tightly onto the shirt Richie was wearing, the material soaking up his tears. Richie rubbed his back, starting to tear up himself. He had Eddie back in his arms,  _ his  _ Eddie. 

 

He started walking them backwards to the bedroom, and Eddie followed with zero resistance. Richie was right about one thing: Eddie needed him. He completely depended on him; he would follow him to the ends of the earth. 

 

When Richie sat down on the edge of the bed, Eddie stood between his legs, he finally realised what he had done. He  _ knew _ what he had done. Eddie hadn't let him forget at all in the past two weeks. But he looked beyond that and saw what he  _ truly  _ did. He had broken them. He had driven a divide between them that was impossible to fix. 

 

Luckily for him, Eddie was great at fixing things. Together, they would fix this mess that he made. 

 

He didn't notice Eddie speaking until he could feel his breath against his neck. “...so much. So fucking much,” he was whispering against Richie's pale skin. 

 

“I love you, Eddie,” Richie said softly, wrapping his arms tightly around Eddie. 

 

Eddie kissed his skin, leaning against him. “I love you too, bubba.” Richie let out a breath that he didn't know he had been holding. 

 

A breath he had been keeping in for two weeks. 

 

“Are we…”

 

“Yeah, Rich. We’re back,” Eddie said, his voice almost silent as he climbed into Richie's lap. He attached his lips to Richie's neck, sucking a mark into the skin. 

 

Richie pulled Eddie off after a second. “Eds, let me make love to you.” 

 

Eddie blushed, and Richie nearly fell into pieces. Eddie's blush had to be the cutest damn thing he had ever seen. The fact he was able to still make him blush after almost seven years of being together was insane to him. 

 

_ Seven years _ , he thought.  _ I can't believe I almost fucked that up completely.  _

 

Eddie nodded quickly, getting off of Richie's lap and starting to undress. He pulled out his phone, quickly texting Mike to just go home. Once he had stripped completely, he stood in front of Richie. 

 

The other man stood as well, making quick work of getting undressed. He watched Eddie the whole time, afraid that if he took his eyes off of him too long he would disappear. 

 

When Eddie laid down on the bed, Richie grabbed lube and a condom from the stash they had in the nightstand. He moved onto the bed, slotting himself between Eddie's legs. 

 

The smaller man spread his legs on impulse, looking up at Richie. It was then that something occurred to him: they hadn't kissed. At  _ all _ . 

 

He pulled Richie down, the other man’s eyes widening in surprise. “Eds, what are you-”

 

“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me, Richie,” Eddie said, leaning up so their lips just barely touched. 

 

Richie quickly closed the small gap between them, pressing his lips down on Eddie's. It was a rough kiss, filled with two weeks’ worth of pent up frustration. Teeth collided and noses bumped, but they soon fell into a rhythm. 

 

When Richie's tongue slipped past his lips, Eddie let out a small moan. This cause Richie to move his hands to Eddie's thighs, holding on tightly. He rolled his hips down against Eddie's, both men groaning at the feeling. 

 

Richie moved back, sitting on his heels and looking down at Eddie. He admired him like it was the first time he had seen him without clothes on. 

 

“Richie,  _ please _ ,” Eddie whined. “Please just- I need you.”

 

Richie nodded. He grabbed the lube, coating three fingers in it. He moved between Eddie's legs again, reaching down and rubbing a finger around his hole. When Eddie was nearly falling apart just from that, they both knew this wouldn't last very long. 

 

Richie pushed his finger all the way into Eddie quickly, the other man’s hips lifting off the bed. “That feel good, baby?” Richie asked in a quiet voice. 

 

Eddie nodded quickly, grabbing onto the sheets under him. “Another,” he said, his voice slightly tense. 

 

“Of course.” Richie added another finger, slowly scissoring the two to stretch him out. 

 

Eddie looked down at Richie, biting his lip. When the two made eye contact, the smaller man started tearing up. “Hurry up. I want you on top of me again,” he whispered. 

 

Richie nodded. He pushed in his third finger, doing the opposite of hurrying. He didn't want to hurt Eddie, knowing-  _ hoping _ \- it had been a little over two weeks since he'd had sex. 

 

When Richie brushed against his prostate, Eddie nearly screamed. Richie reached up quickly to cover his mouth, knowing that the neighbors were home and would be able to hear if they were too loud. 

 

“Richie, please,” Eddie repeated, his voice slightly muffled by the large hand covering his mouth. His voice came out like a sob, and he looked up at Richie with tears in his eyes. 

 

Richie finally pulled out his fingers, grabbing the condom. He tore the foil packet open with his teeth, staring at Eddie as he rolled it on. Eddie bit his lip, his eyes flicking from Richie's face to his cock, going back and forth quickly. 

 

Richie grabbed onto the lube, coating his length in it. He capped it, throwing it into the floor. He got between Eddie's legs, lining up and pushing just the tip in. At just that, Eddie was already a moaning mess. 

 

“Eds, you're so fucking  _ loud _ ,” Richie said softly. He leaned down and placed his lips on Eddie's, starting to slowly slide into his hole. 

 

Eddie moaned loudly into Richie's mouth, the noise only slightly muffled. It echoed off the bare walls, music to Richie's ears. He pulled back, looking down at the beautiful man under him. 

 

“Mine,” Richie said, dangerously quiet. Eddie knew what was coming next, preparing himself by fisting his hands in the sheets. 

 

When Richie pulled out almost all the way, Eddie bit down hard on his lip. When Richie slammed his hips forward, he let out a cry of his name. Richie repeated the action, something he always did when he felt particularly possessive over Eddie. 

 

And every time, it made Eddie fall apart. This time was no different. Richie's angled thrusts had Eddie a moaning mess underneath him. It gave him a deep feeling of satisfaction to see the smaller man like that, absolutely  _ wrecked  _ because of him. 

 

Richie could tell that Eddie was close by the way he sounded. Moans and whispers of Richie's name had turned into quiet whimpers, and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut. He had the most beautiful flush that traveled from his cheeks all the way down his chest, which was rising and falling quickly. 

 

Eddie opened his eyes at the last second before he came all over his stomach. His back arched as he yelled Richie's name, nearly passing out from the sensations. Richie came quickly after him, spilling into the condom. He repeated Eddie's name quietly, falling on top of him. He ignored the cum spreading between them, focusing more on the fact that Eddie was here with him. 

 

“I love you, Chee,” he said softly, bring his hands up to play with Richie's hair. The man on top of him grinned, kissing his neck. 

 

“I love you too, Eds. Only you. It'll only ever be you,” he mumbled. 

 

“It's only ever  _ been _ you, Rich,” Eddie said, keeping his voice quiet. 

 

“ _ It's always been you. _ ”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't hate me bls


	2. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay. so this isn't really a part two, more of an epilogue. it's only like 1600 words but i just felt like it was needed. i also feel i need to explain myself. i do NOT agree with any of richie's actions. i don't think cheating is okay on any levels, nor is it justifiable at ALL. now, this part just follows eddie. frankly because the story was supposed to be more eddie-centric to begin with. richie is barely in this, to symbolize how eddie's life is without richie in it. i tried to end it as well as i. could, and if it feels rushed it's because it is. i was reading comments on the first part and literally typed all of this in 30 minutes. i just feel like this NEEDS to be posted tonight, so i'm not even going to proofread it. it's whatever. so hopefully this clears up things, and hopefully it isn't too shitty.

_ 5 Months Later _

 

Eddie was sat in the middle of a meeting, zoning out. He was staring at a wall, thinking. He had been thinking about that day a lot recently. The day he went back to Richie. The most common recurring thought?

 

It was a mistake. 

 

Richie has used him, hit all of his weak spots to make him stay. Sure, on some levels Eddie  _ did _ need him. But he wasn't dependent on him. He could live on his own. 

 

It was the next morning that Richie's words from the day before hit him. When he had woken up in Richie's arms for the first time in 2 weeks. He realised just who Richie has sounded like. 

 

_ His mother.  _

 

Eddie hates comparing the two. Richie thought that he was helping Eddie, but really he was doing the same things as Sonia. He was trying to make Eddie stay with him, all because  _ Richie  _ was the one who couldn't be alone. 

 

Richie was the one with the problem here, not Eddie. Richie needed somebody to constantly care for him, to watch over him and make sure he fell asleep in a position so that he wouldn't vomit on himself if he drank too much. 

 

And Eddie just wasn't that somebody. So, for the second time in two weeks, he left. This time, he left with his stuff in boxes. It was on his terms, and he wouldn't let Richie pull him back in. 

 

So here he was five months later. He had minimal interaction with Richie, only seeing him when the two ever happened to cross paths walking down the street. Eddie had slowly cut off communication with all of the losers except for Mike, Stan, and Ben. Bev and Bill were with Richie no matter what, but Eddie knew that Ben would always be a mutual party despite his girlfriend’s choice. Mike and Stan being on Eddie's side was a no-brainer. He was the closest to them, and they weren't too blind to see what Richie was doing. 

 

Eddie had found an apartment in the middle of the city, about an hour from where he used to live with Richie. He had even gotten a new job, though that wasn't his choice. He had gotten promoted, the only reason he moved to the city in the first place. They put him with a whole new department, working downtown. He loved it, and he had even made some new friends. He was able to go out with them after work, but on the weekends he always made sure to get together with Mike and Stan. 

 

“Mr. Kaspbrak. Mr. Kaspbrak!” Eddie's boss was saying. He was staring at him, along with all of his coworkers that were in the room. 

 

“Oh, sorry?” Eddie said softly. He looked up at his boss, Mr. Kreiger. 

 

“I was asking how the diagnostics were coming along. You know, the ones I asked you to turn in to me  _ a week ago _ ?” 

 

Eddie's face burned as his boss blatantly called him out in front of everyone. “Oh, um. They're almost done. I just had to cross check some things. Sorry it's taken so long, sir.”

 

Kreiger narrowed his eyes at Eddie. “Don't let it happen again. I want them on my desk in two days. Tops.” 

 

Eddie nodded, mumbling a quiet  _ yes, sir _ . He went back to staring at the wall until the meeting was over. He quickly got up and went to his cubicle, sitting in his chair. He let out a deep breath, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. 

 

He had 17 notifications from  _ ‘Asshole’ _ . 

 

“Why the fuck is Richie texting me?” he asked himself quietly. He opened the messages, sighing. 

 

They mostly consisted of Richie saying that they ‘needed to talk’. It had been the same thing for the past few weeks. That they needed to talk, that Richie missed him; Eddie was starting to get annoyed by it. No, it was starting to piss him the  _ fuck  _ off. 

 

He responded with a quick  _ leave me the fuck alone Richie I have nothing to say to you _ , turnin on his laptop. He sighed, looking over the diagnostics he had run. He sent them to the printer, getting up to go and get them. He threw them on Kreiger’s desk on his way back to his cubicle. 

 

After a slow work day, Eddie finally got to go home. He had more messages from Richie throughout the day, deciding to ignore them until he got home. He stepped off the subway, sighing as he walked to his apartment complex. He went up to his floor, greeting his cat at the door. 

 

“Hey, Esmeralda,” he murmured, kneeling down to pet her. She was an all white persian cat that he had bought when he first moved. He saw her as a treat to himself, a reward for moving on. 

 

At least, he was trying to move on. Richie was making it hard, with his constant texts and voicemails. He normally only called Eddie while he was drunk; another thing added to the list of things that pissed Eddie off. Richie only called him when he was shitfaced. 

 

Eddie sat on his couch, pulling his laptop out of his work bag. He opened it up, and right when he was about to check his email it started ringing. 

 

_ Incoming FaceTime from Asshole _

 

Eddie groaned, quickly ignoring the call. Another came two seconds later, and he accidentally hit the answer button. “Shit,” he said quietly as Richie's face appeared. 

 

Richie looked surprised that Eddie had answered, quickly snapping out of it. “Eddie, please don't hang up.”

 

Eddie rolled his eyes, leaning back against the cushions. “And tell me why I shouldn't do that?” he asked, looking away from his screen and picking at his nails. 

 

“Because, I-” Richie sighed. “I just wanted to hear your voice. It's been months, Eds. I miss you.”

 

Eddie scoffed. “You should've thought about that. You know, before you  _ cheated _ on me.”

 

Richie rolled his eyes. “Oh come the fuck  _ on _ , Eddie. You came back, didn't you?”

 

Eddie's face turned red in anger. “Only because you manipulated me! You knew exactly what to say to get me to be putty in your hands. You pushed all the right buttons, and  _ that's  _ why I came back. But I got my shit together. I realised just how sad you are,” he spat, something he should've said five months ago. 

 

He could see the wheels turning in Richie's head. “Oh yeah? Tell me why you stayed for seven years, then?” he asked, his voice quiet. It was obvious that he had either just finished drinking, or he was close to being drunk. 

 

“Because I loved you, Richie. And I thought you loved me too. But now I know that you didn't. You just needed somebody around, because you couldn't stomach the thought of being alone.”

 

Richie's face fell, and that's when Eddie knew he was finally getting through to him. His words were finally registering in Richie's brain. “I'm perfectly fine on my own.”

 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure you are. You probably drink away every single day, Richie. You have a problem, and you need to get help. And i'm just not the right person to help you.”

 

He didn't wait for Richie's response, instead deciding to end the call there. He said everything he needed to, and he didn't hear anything that he hadn't been hearing for five months. With some difficulty, he closed his laptop. He went to Richie's contact in his phone, pressing a red button. 

 

_ Would you like to block this number? _

 

With his heart in his throat, Eddie swallowed. He hesitantly clicked yes, sighing. He broke down into quiet sobs, burying his face in his hands. 

 

He was done with Richie. He was out of his life forever. 

 

So why was it so hard to let go?

 

~~

 

The next day, Saturday morning to be exact, Eddie woke up to a loud knocking on his front door. He groaned, getting out of bed and shuffling to the door. He opened it, seeing Mike and Stan standing there. Mike was holding a cake, and Stan had a bottle of wine. 

 

“Why are you here at 8 in the morning?” Eddie asked, his voice thick with sleep. He stepped out of the way to let his friends in. 

 

They set the things they brought on the table. “We’re celebrating. Bill called Stan and told him that Richie couldn't call you anymore. Which means that you blocked him,” Mike explained. “Which  _ also  _ means that you're finally over him.”

 

Eddie shrugged shyly, nodding. “Yeah, I did. But he deserved it. He's a manipulative asshole, and it took me seven years to figure that out. But i'm done. I'm 23, I should be living my life. Not taking care of a drunk boyfriend,” he said, his words full of anger. 

 

Stan smiled at him. “I’m proud of you, Eddie. You did something that some people can never do. You can finally move on,” he said. He put a hand on Eddie's shoulder. 

 

They all shared a smile, Eddie tearing up slightly. “Let's eat some cake and drink one at 8 am,” Mike said, laughing. 

 

As Eddie watched Mike cut the cake and Stan open the wine, he realised something.  _ This  _ was where he was meant to be. With his friends. Not worrying about saying something wrong, or worrying about if he would need to take care of a drunk, passed out Richie. 

 

This was what he should've been doing all along.  _ Living his life.  _ And Richie was what held him back from doing that. 

 

So, Eddie decided. He wouldn't let Richie come close to him again. He would be civil with him if their paths ever crossed, but other than that, nothing. He wouldn't go out of his way to talk to him, wouldn't ask how he was doing, none of it. 

 

He would be able to go out and party, and truly be a young adult. He got his life back. 

 

Even if it took seven years, he couldn't be more grateful. 

 


End file.
